Crackpots & cracking times

I should have said my name was 'Finja'. P.S Not only are our real names plastered all over the internet, you'll also find them on the wall at the Legoland Discovery Centre, Berlin.

Ah, the things I could tell you if only I had never set up this blog using my real name, and had never used photos of my family. Sometimes it's a curse! For example I would have been able to tell you an awesomely funny story of a truly horrific playdate I went on with the kids this week. You know it's not going well when you get asked round for coffee and you're the one who has to go for the milk, and you have to run faster than Paula Radcliffe there and back because Orla's parting words are "They're trying to take Hamish's trousers off!", and there's just something about the family that makes you just a little uncomfortable with that.

Alas, we're going to have to wait until either we've left Berlin, or they've left Berlin (and let's hope it's them, and soon) before I can tell you about it. Unless you email me, and I'll spill the beans ;)

As you may have noticed from the plethora of bunny-related blog posts, it's Easter. Orla has been on holiday now for a week and without even trying we've managed to pack each day with events that have cost either very little or nothing. We had a day of playing on 'one' day as Orla wanted to stay home and get stuck into all her new toys. Then on 'another' day we had a lovely day at Berlin Zoo with some good friends and spent a lot of time not looking so much at animals, but talking endlessly, avoiding fast-moving zoo traffic, and playing in the quite brilliant park.

Now this was a nice playdate. Fun is a shared love of railings.

On 'another one of the' days we spent a couple of hours in the depths of hell, as mentioned at the beginning of this post, and then went on a fake appointment on the other side of the city so we didn't have to spend any longer with them. And we also went to Legoland 'another' day because the kids have been dying to make more use of our year passes and I HATE that place on the weekends. For some reason I had convinced myself that the Germans would take their Easter holidays on a different week, perhaps that was the only way my brain would allow me to actually make the suggestion of Legoland to the kids. It's not that it's not good: in fact I'd say that the Legoland Discovery Centre at Potsdamer Platz is one of the best places to take kids in Berlin. As long as you like being underground and packed in like a sardine and enjoy noise levels from squealing kids that could drown out a pneumatic drill.

Don't get excited Orla, this poster is the best bit.

We also went along to the 'Helden' (Superheroes) exhibition at the Film & TV Museum in the Sony Center at Potsdamer Platz. I had seen the poster in one of the U-Bahn stations and Hamish had been very keen to see Spiderman. It was reasonable enough to get in to: Euro 4 for me and the kids were free, but it was a bit of a disappointment. The 3 Spidermen they had on display looked remarkably similar to the very small ones Hamish plays with, and well... the Star Wars display was just the Lego figures of the characters. If anyone wants to see a Disney Winnie the Pooh, Toy Story, & Cars exhibition, I will be showing one made out Duplo for the next 6 months in Hamish's bedroom.

The Sony Center roof viewed from the -2 floor. It's a geometric dream.

I will say however, that I am glad we went into it. I haven't bothered visiting the Film & TV museum because I kind of assumed that it would primarily focus on German films and tv that I wouldn't be familiar with. But it's worth going in even to the foyer and using the glass lifts to get a different view of the Sony Center roof. And you know how I like to take a photo or 80!

Germans shoot from the hip

My mind is still pounding away thinking about Hamish and his unhappiness at Kita. This morning was hellish again, with him screaming "I don't want to go to school" all the way from the front door to the U-Bahn, with a brief respite for train happiness, then back to the screaming at the other end.

I spoke to one of his 'teachers' today and they said that things are a little better, and he is a little happier. I don't know about you though, but I NEVER trust the things that nursery workers say. I base this on my first experiences with Orla's nursery in Derby, when I would ask, "How was she today?" and they'd always say "Yeah, she was great. She ate all her lunch, blah, blah, blah". I could always stop listening after that point because I knew that it was all made up. The only way Orla would eat all her lunch is if they were only feeding her cake soup, followed by cake, with a little cake for afters. I've always found that I just get an "everything was fine" response.

Why do we do that? Why when asked how things are, or how we are, do we always say "fine"? Ok, so maybe we don't want to always be moaning "Ah, well actually, my piles are giving me gip. Do you want a look?".

In Germany though I find things a bit different. This afternoon we got back into our building and met one of neighbours who lives a couple of floors down from us. She asked how things were going, and I told her things weren't going that brilliantly for Hamish at the moment. She asked what was going on and I told her and said "You've probably heard him screaming from the lift in the morning!". And she said "Yes, I've heard him in the mornings.". In Britain I reckon most times your neighbours would say "Oh no, no, no, I haven't heard him" even when they have because it's unavoidable, but here they just tell you in a nice straightforward manner. The same if you are making too much noise, playing your music too loud, or not doing your recycling right, they just tell you. There's none of this keeping quiet and having a good moan behind closed doors and then if the subject comes up pretending they know nothing.

So maybe things are going a little better for Hamish. They think he's having problems with the language, and that he doesn't like it when he doesn't understand when they are giving instructions to the whole group and he doesn't know what to do. I understand that, but I'm not sure what I can do about it. They think it'll improve in a few months when his language skills get better, but a few months is a very long time in an unhappy toddlers world. I am going to find me some books...or maybe an English speaking Kita.

Revenge: A dish best served on Father's Day

I think I see a pattern forming. Stevie seemed to decide that Mother's Day is all about mothers and their children spending quality time together. "Fair enough" I said, "but I get to spend quality time with them every day of the week and I don't really think that's a good enough excuse for me getting up with them at the crack of dawn and you getting to lie in bed until nearly a quarter to lunchtime". But he explained "What would you be doing if we were living up in Scotland? Exactly! You'd be going to see your mum and spending some quality time with her, doing something, and I'd be doing the same. It's about the kids doing something with their mum!". Chances are though, if we lived in Scotland I would not be starting my mum's Sunday by wailing "Muuummmmeeeee!" from my bed, while my sister (see, I told you I'd give you a nice mention) handed her a sloshing potty from the top of the stairs with a wavering hand.

So, it turns out Stevie asked the kids what they would like to get me for Mother's Day. Orla, the oldest, has only just grasped that this is not my birthday, and Hamish doesn't care, but hopes that it involves cake somewhere down the line. So he said to them "What would you like to get Mummy? Would you like to get her flowers; would you like to take her to see some baby animals, or would you like to get her something nice to wear?". I didn't even need to make that bold, did I?

Stevie doesn't see this as child manipulation, or think that there's anything even doubtful about this range of choices he offered them. So we went to the zoo. I quite like the zoo, and fair enough happy kids make for a happy mummy, but I think there's just something a bit off about the whole deal. This Father's Day (20th June) I will ask them if they'd like to give him a day in the pub, a nice expensive Orla Kiely handbag full of cake, or as much uninterrupted sleep as he could devour. Hmmm...wonder what they'll choose. Oh, and he can get up at say 4:30 am or something to max out on that quality time with the kids. Lovely!

Sshhh! Loose lips, and all that malarky

Let's just all have a nice cup of tea and forget about it.

I think it's fair to say that most women don't always tell their partners everything. I'm sure I am not alone in taking 30 - 50% off of the price of fundamentally everything that I buy, and then can't explain why I have no money left. See the Tesco-no-money-to-pay-scrabbling-around-on-floor-behind-till-for-pennies blog entry.

Sometimes it just makes life easier. There's no moaning, no shouting, no harking back at the past for misdemeanors thought long forgotten. Sometimes it's better to just not say anything at all and everyone's happy.

Could you imagine what someone might say if they knew that you had been out at the shops in the morning, and then maybe later, say 6-ish hours later, your neighbour came to your door to tell you that you had left your car with the rear passenger door wide open and the whole thing unlocked, and a whole bunch of stealable things inside??

I imagine that their first comment is not going to be "Wow! We must really live in a great neighbourhood that nobody has touched a thing.". So I think we should maybe just keep this between ourselves, ok?

eBaying my life 7 items at a time

So following the Valentine 'lie' thing (not exactly an incident, though it's tempting to call it such) I was standing at the sink washing the non-dishwasherable dishes when Stevie lovingly suggested "Shall I help you get things on eBay?". - This is because with the decision to move to Berlin I need to get rid of the mountain of clutter that I have accumulated and which makes me feel like me. Admittedly, the Avent bottle bag and the 2 juicers don't really give me that warm sentimental fuzzy feeling inside, but you get my drift. Stevie after 8+ years together is still the minimalist I met, and I am still carting around a transit van of 'personal belongings' (and I'm not even allowing myself to think of the personal attachments I have to some of the larger pieces of furniture).

- So, where was I? Yes, 'Shall I help you get things on eBay?'. For once, I actually took a moment to think about this one, and my first response was "Mmmm, that would be great. You can write the descriptions!", to which he said "Oh well, I'm not very good at that kind of thing". "Ok, well why don't you take the photos?". "Well, you're better at that than me". You can see I was starting to run out of tasks for 'getting things on eBay'. I KNEW IT!

Why does he do this? I utterly despise when he speaks to me like I am someone he is 'project managing' at work. It's not like I am not familiar with the techniques required to get people to do things that they don't necessarily want to do with a little gentle persuasion - my day job is getting toddlers with wills of steel into trousers that they do not want to wear when we have 10 minutes to get to an appointment. So, yes, there was no intention on his part to help it was just his way of telling me to do it. Why can't he just ask me straight? Well, I asked him that and he said that he doesn't like to because I am always on his case. He wants to just come home and have an easy time of it, and he thought I would complain if he asked me straight. So I won't go into all the boring bits but it boiled down to that in actual fact he wants to do what he likes and not have me say anything about it, while he is free to say anything to me and I should not complain, question, or anything - just do what he wants.

Now it's not like he wants to go off to the pub the second he comes home or stay out all night with strange girls, nor do his requirements of me extend to being a mousey little housewife who has the place neat as a pin and his dinner on his table for him coming home. No, no, no, what he most desires to do is leave the toilet seat/lid up and the door unlocked so Hamish can go fishing with his bare hands and post my make-up to the sewer system; and leave toothpaste all over the sink upstairs. For clarification it is Hamish, not Stevie who wishes to drop my make-up down the toilet. As for what he wants me to do with out question or complaint, well, he would like me to put the washing out and not leave it to him all the time.

It sounds really petty, but aren't these the things that drive you mental? Anyway, that was a big digression. So I have started the mighty eBaying task. I am getting as much as possible on on a Wednesday and covering 2 weekends with a 10 day sale. Unfortunately though I am only able to get 7 things on a day so it will take me forever to get rid of everything I need to. I also had made enquiries with the NCT about doing a sale in March in Mickleover and I only managed to get on the reserve list! I have so much baby stuff to sell our house will look empty when its all gone. I am starting to realise just how lazy I am too. I thought I should add the baby monitor that we have not used for at least a year into the pile of things that must go, and it was still plugged in. Admittedly I have been tired over the past nearly 3 years, but too tired to even unplug something we haven't bothered with for a year??

n.b. Don't read this if you are particularly 'green', but I have just realised we also have a Humax box that doesn't work still plugged in and on in the living room. Right! I am off to sort it out, possibly get side-tracked by a child and end up doing something else entirely leaving the Humax box where it is guzzling electricity and only able to entretain us with its little blue LED display.

Sex, Lies, and Valentines Day

It may be a few days since Valentines Day, but it's taken me this long to get over my gift. I have to say from the off that I did get a box of chocolates and a bottle of cava, so he's not that bad, but my main present, wait for it, was a lie about a hair appointment.

How crap is that? He told me he had booked me in to Tony and Guy at 3pm on Friday afternoon with someone called Rachel. I knew as soon as he said it that it was a lie, but he insisted that it wasn't. Why bother??? When I asked if I phoned them to check or if I turned up on Friday would I make a complete fool of myself he was adamant that I would not, but he started having to hide a smile, so that fully confirmed it as a lie. He just cannot keep a straight face when he is lying. The rotter.

So in fact I felt annoyed with him in the end, when really he should have just said nothing and things would have been much better.

I am going to get him a lie about a Porsche and an unbooked trip to New York for his birthday...